


The Sting

by NimbleDingo



Series: Sigvard/Alec drabbles [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Flogging, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6844282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NimbleDingo/pseuds/NimbleDingo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requested on my tumblr: Alec finding out for the first time that he's into being flogged</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sting

**Author's Note:**

> The request is a little altered, as it's not the first time Alec has been flogged. Effectively, it's Sigvard finding out just how much Alec gets off on it.

Sigvard notices the difference the very instant the flogger lashes down upon the lean muscled back before him. Alec’s body doesn’t merely weather or shy away from the blow, but instead arches into the strike as if seeking more.

The blonde isn’t new to this game, he has been in it for years, has had countless partners (some of them quite good and quite sweet) and yet the man before him reacted with such exquisite pleasure from a single blow that Sigvard could think of nobody else. The desire to see it again, to push his new partner to his limits ( _“Good luck~” the devious gleam in Alec’s red eyes had said before they had begun_ ) consumes him, and he tightens his grip on the handle.

A red eye peeks back at him, Alec wondering where the next strike will come, and Sigvard’s arm swings down with a precise motion to lash the very end of the tails at the redhead’s lower back. Alec’s body shudders, his head droops, and his hips sway sensually. The third strike is higher, parallel to the first, on the other side of Alec’s back, and - there! There’s the arch, the silent plea for more. The slaps of the flogger kissing Alec’s back and the bartender’s own staggered breathing are the only sounds to fill the room.

There is not one gasp of pain.

Only when Alec’s back is a red crisscross of welts does Sigvard change it up. His arm lifts, drops, and jerks sharply up just before the full force of the tails land on Alec’s bare ass. The result is a sharp _crack!_ , a desperate high-pitched keen, and a delicious full-body shudder - all completely different reactions the large blonde has witnessed thus far. What other option does he have other than to explore the new territory? He repeats the motion up on Alec’s back, higher, closer to his shoulder, and with another carefully precise strike, cracks the tip of the tails along the tender skin. Alec’s hips buck, his knees threaten to give way, and a strangled laughing sound reaches Sigvard’s ears.

Sigvard knows that Alec likes pain - he could tell the first time they kissed (Alec had liked to use everything - teeth and tongue alike - when it came to kissing, Sigvard had discovered rather quickly), but he had not been aware of the older man’s sheer threshold for it.

The blonde adds a few more crosshatches along Alec’s back, saving those stinging, whip-crack blows for a more opportune moment, and Alec’s harsh panting breaks into a soft moan whenever the tails deliberately snake around his ribs. He backs off for a moment without a word (hanging in suspense will do his lover good, Sigvard is positive, and if he gets impatient, well, there isn’t much Alec can really do about it other than wait) and surveys his handiwork.

Alec’s lean body is trembling with a strange, painful euphoria, and the angry red crisscrosses along his back and sides are tantalizing. He drops his gaze lower, and a corner of his lips twitches into a smirk; the bartender’s cock is full and hard, and Sigvard curbs the impulse to touch, to tease, to drive Alec up the wall.

He has other methods.

Sigvard lifts the flogger once more, takes careful aim as he always does, and strikes, whipping his arm back up at the very last second to land a stinging blow to the other side of Alec’s ass.

“ _Aah!_ ”

Milky fluid drips from the head of Alec’s erection and onto the sheets, the sheer bliss from the stinging blow to the only unmarked spot on his back a little too much to handle.

Sigvard burns the delectable image of Alec’s shivering body into his mind.

 _‘I bet I can make him cum just from this.’_ Something deep in Sigvard’s consciousness responds to that thought, responds eagerly, and the blonde lets himself sink.

“More…”

Sigvard pauses with the flogger half raised, waits for Alec to continue, because he hasn’t spoken thus far - hasn’t even given a safe word of any kind ( _“Flogging, hmm? If that’s all then I won’t need to tell you to stop, big guy~”_ ).

“Righ’ there, more…”

Sigvard’s lips twitch again, because, really, it does sound more like a demand than like begging.

He lands another blow on Alec’s upper back, following through on his swing, not allowing the redhead the stinging bliss he craves.

“Watch your words.”

“Sir.” Immediate. Placating. “Please, Sir, more, on my ass. Harder, make it _hurt_.” Just the right amount of whine and moan and beg.

The next blow is stinging, relentless, and right along the curve of Alec’s reddening ass. He cries out, uninhibited by their location - or the fact that the bar is just downstairs and business hours are still raging on - and his arms collapse out from under him. His ass raises higher into the air, presents Sigvard with an even clearer view of the weeping, straining erection, and he grants Alec’s ass a few more controlled stinging cracks. He will be sore, find it hard to sit for several days, but if that really bothered him, he would have given Sigvard some kind of signal.

The end has no warning and arrives quickly: one last blow, pulled back at the last second, and Alec is spilling out over the sheets with a strangled, laughing moan.

His body continues twitching and jerking for a good while after, and the stinging pain dulls down into a constant burn along his back, shoulders, sides, and buttocks. The way Alec’s back arches when he can finally get his arms back under him has Sigvard wanting to fuck him into the bed until he can’t even walk, much less sit. Instead he runs a soft and possessive hand down Alec’s spine, tracing the welts with a blunt nail. He’s rewarded with a sweet, sinful shiver.

It is with great care that Sigvard rolls Alec onto his side, forgoing the cloth and cool water on the bedside table. Alec grins tiredly at Sigvard and his laugh is breathless when he sits, rolls his shoulders carefully, visibly drinking in the burning sensation from the welts.

“Here, let me.”

Sigvard doesn’t even react - can’t, really, because this is totally outside his realm of expertise - as deft, clever fingers reach over and undo his pants. He hadn’t even realized that they were on so tightly before now, and the blonde shuffles a little closer, runs work-roughened hands down Alec’s back. Barely a minute passes, a minute of devilish fingers twisting and stroking (Sigvard jerks when Alec catches the slit at the head of his cock with a blunt fingernail), and he already feels at the brink. Simply recalling the image of the redhead’s back, arching beautifully beneath each stinging blow with his cock leaking onto the bedding has Sigvard spilling over Alec’s fingers.

Alec laughs again, sounding giddy, and brings his hand to his mouth. Red eyes clouded with pleasure, yet still very much aware of their surroundings lock with deep blue. Sigvard swallows, feels almost trapped by the sensuality radiating from the bartender. Yanking the older man into a thorough, heavy kiss seems like the only course of action.

Suddenly having a single partner doesn’t quite feel as boring and stale as it always has before.


End file.
